Mimesis
by HecateA
Summary: As it turns out, Harry is much more prepared to meet Teddy Lupin than he originally assumed. Oneshot.


**Damn, I haven't posted in a while. You can blame university for that, although I've still been writing and that's the good news. This here was a Christmas present for a friend, and now that she's read it I share it with you! Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

 **Mimesis**

 _"Imitation is not just the sincerest form of flattery - it's the sincerest form of learning."  
― George Bernard Shaw_

You could quite easily say that time had become more of a loose suggestion than a strict guideline at the Burrow, with little to no opposition from its inhabitants.

For one, there were so many people now living in -what with Harry and Hermione being effectively homeless at the moment, Percy having just returned, George being banned from living alone for the time being, Ginny home for the summer, and Bill, Fleur and Charlie who had all opted to stay close since the funeral. The odds of synchronizing everybody's schedule were slim to begin with. Arthur, Bill, Fleur, and Percy would at least leave for work at roughly the same time. George would be up earlier than that, so he could stock up the shelves of the shop and prepare for the day, and lately Ron had started going with him. The crowded household also meant that everybody was constantly tripping over one another, especially because nobody had the heart to tell the Ghoul to go back to the attic, so Harry and Ron were sleeping in the living room.

Sleeping schedules were by far the most difficult and chaotic part of life at the Burrow at the moment, which was saying a lot. This was largely due to the fact that they didn't exist. When he was home, Ron could usually be found napping under a tree in the backyard. If he was approached, he would sleepily mutter that he'd destroyed a horcrux and ought to be left alone now. It was as if he was catching up on hours of missed sleep. Molly had caught Harry and Ginny up late, huddling around cups of tea in the kitchen or sitting on the porch and chatting in their pajamas, as if _they_ were catching up on lost time. Arthur was more tired than he usually was, calling early nights and trudging along more slowly than usual in the morning. Hermione was a ball of nerves, and was up every morning in time for _The Daily Prophet_ to arrive—she'd usually fall asleep at the kitchen table while rereading it, and Ron and Harry would fiercely forbid that anyone wake her up even if it was Breakfast time. Charlie was taking advantage of the lack of 4:00 AM wake-up calls to feed dragon hatchlings and sleeping until noon—at least that was consistent.

Molly herself knew all of this because she spent most hours awake, watching the assortment of people in her house go about the lives they were putting back together, all in orbit with one another. She felt like Newt Scamander, Charlie's childhood idol, sitting in a bush and taking notes on gnome mating rituals or some other nonsensical sequence of events unfolding before her. It had only been two weeks since the Battle of Hogwarts, so perhaps Molly should have been gentler. She was well aware that she must have looked quite the mess herself. She felt the part, at least. But she was worried about them, all of them. Her own children as well as – no, never mind that, they were _all_ her children at this point.

This insomnia was what placed Molly in the kitchen late one night, washing the dishes when a voice behind her called out shyly, "Mrs. Weasley?"

She turned around and there was Harry, wearing jeans and a hoody, his hair somehow messier than usual. Her first thought when she saw him, as it had been ever since the Battle of Hogwarts, was that he needed to eat.

"Hello sweetheart," she said wiping her hands on her apron. "Can you boys hear me from the living room? Am I being too loud?"

"No, not at all Mrs. Weasley," Harry said. "I was up."

"What is it, Harry?" Molly asked anxiously. "Trouble sleeping?"

"I was… I was wondering if you could help me with something," he said.

"Of course darling, you know the answer to that," Molly said crossing over and putting a hand on his shoulder. "What do you need?"

Harry took a deep breath. "I want to meet Teddy Lupin."

* * *

Remus was sitting at the Burrow's kitchen table, reading a book and nursing a cup of tea. His arm was in a sling—something had happened last full moon, but he hadn't talked about it. He looked up when Harry walked in and smiled. His lip was busted too.

"Hello Harry," he said.

Harry felt awkward and out of place.

"Don't worry," he said closing his book, using his wand as a bookmark. "I've looked worst. Are you looking for someone?"

"I didn't want to interrupt," Harry said. "I… I have homework to hand in on the first day after Christmas break, but the twins are feeding Singing Sweets to some mice upstairs," Harry said.

Remus cracked a smile. "Entertaining as that sounds, I don't suppose it fosters a conductive learning environment. You're more than welcome to pull up a chair."

So Harry did, spread his parchment down on the table, reopened his Transfigurations textbook at the right page, and instantly remembered just how stuck he had been.

When he looked up, Remus was looking at him with a slight grin.

"Would you like some help?" he offered.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Hermione said she wouldn't help because I should have been organized."

"A truly dire situation, then," Remus said. "Here, show me your assignment… Ah—I see, I remember having to plot out Friedrich Helggegger's Laws for Faulty Transfiguration Repercussions. It's not easy, but there _is_ a trick to it once you get the logic. Let's see if we can puzzle it out…"

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

"No, no," Remus said with the kind, patient voice Harry had heard him use a thousand times. It was quite nice to know it extended beyond his classroom. "Don't be sorry, we have time to go over this. Remember: you cast a patronus at the age of thirteen Harry. You're an accomplished wizard and a hard worker; you'll get this too."

It took them about an hour, but eventually Harry had a satisfyingly accurate and readable graph that he could turn in to McGonagall.

"I never would have gotten that on my own," Harry said.

"It's difficult," Remus said. "The important part is that you got it."

"Yeah, I think I… I think I get it," Harry said. "Umm, but while we're here, there's a Defense Against the Dark Arts thing I… I couldn't really understand it either."

"Well, there's no use in giving Severus another reason to dislike you," Remus smiled. "Why don't you go get that too?"

* * *

"Ah. Harry!" Mr. Weasley said when he stepped outside to line up all the empty butterbeer bottles against the side of the Burrow. "What are you doing out here?"

"Nothing, Mr. Weasley," Harry said getting up. "Just… air."

He gestured vaguely at what was indeed air.

"Is everything alright?" Mr Weasley asked.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Yeah, there's just umm…"

He didn't know how to explain the fullness of the Burrow at the moment, since it was very clearly not unusual for anybody else. There were about twelve people living in the house at the moment, by virtue of it being Charlie's birthday, some of whom Harry had never met before because they were his school friends. It wasn't claustrophobic, per se—maybe a better word would be overstimulating.

"There are quite a few of us, aren't there?" Mr Weasley grinned. "Part of the joys of a big family, although I suppose that also takes some getting used to."

Harry nodded. Right on cue, something shattered inside the Burrow. From outside, Harry couldn't tell if Mrs. Weasley was telling Ron or Fred to pick it up.

"No sense going back in there until that's taken care of," Mr Weasley said. He sat down on the porch and Harry sat back down as well. Whatever was going on in there, a burst of laughter followed suit. Mr Weasley smiled.

"As long as they're all happy," he said simply. "You know, I saw Lucius Malfoy at the Ministry today, bringing his son around for something. I know you and Ron dislike him, but I worry about that boy, sometimes. I don't think he has…"

"This," Harry said gesturing to the Burrow.

"Right," Mr Weasley said. "You know, it was scary when the Ministry cut a lot from their Muggle Affairs branches after You-Know-Who was defeated—change of priorities, they said. The important thing after that for us was just to make sure that everybody had what they needed and was happy. The rest wasn't all that important. I think that was the right thing to do."

Somehow, something else broke in the house, and this time Mrs. Weasley was very clearly telling off George.

Mr Weasley pondered over this new development for a second.

"I think it's nicer out here," he told Harry.

Harry agreed, and they stayed outside watching fireflies flicker over the vegetable patch.

* * *

"You know," Sirius said as they repainted the walls of the room. "Back when we first spoke about you coming to live with me, I figured this might be a good bedroom for you."

"Really?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Sirius said. "I knew we'd be able to move out that appalling furniture, the view's quite good, it's far enough from the worst of the portraits..."

"You thought that far ahead?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Sirius said, dipping the paintbrush back in the pot of paint. "I had twelve years' time to think of what kind of life I would have liked to give you. I didn't think it would happen this way, but I'm happy to have you here now."

Harry nodded and climbed another step of the ladder, to reach the higher part of the wall. He didn't say anything.

"You know Harry, I don't think Voldemort has taken from anyone what he's taken from you," Sirius said. "But there are many of us who've lost. I, for one, am shit scared that he's back."

Harry looked down at him. "Really? But you're in the Order…"

"Only reason _to_ join the Order is because you're scared," Sirius said.

Harry put the can of paint down on the top step of the ladder.

"I have dreams about Cedric," Harry said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "It happened so quickly, Sirius…"

As he kept talking, he climbed down from the ladder, and eventually they were both sitting on the floor. When he stopped, he realized that Sirius' arm was around his shoulders. They must have watched the paint dry for ten minutes before Sirius spoke again.

"Voldemort thrives by breaking people," Sirius said. "By causing despair, turning friends and families against one another, isolating us from each other and ourselves. Don't keep this kind of thing to yourself, Harry. It's not strength, it's playing into his hand."

"Okay," Harry said.

"I can't imagine what it's like for you, but I'll listen if you want to tell me," Sirius said. "Always."

* * *

"Come in, have a seat," Dumbledore said waving Harry into his office.

Harry popped in and took his usual seat. The candy dish on the Headmaster's desk had recently been refilled with jelly slugs, which must mean that Dumbledore was in a good mood.

"I wanted to congratulate you on Gryffindor's win," Dumbledore said. "I know you weren't playing, but you put together quite the team this year. James would be proud."

"Thank you, professor," Harry said. "I can't lie, it's quite nice to have the Quidditch Cup in the common room."

"I can imagine," Dumbledore said. "I also heard that you had quite the personal victory, as well…"

Harry looked away from the jelly slugs and to Dumbledore, confused. "Sir?"

"Minerva tells me that you and Ginny Weasley are something of an item now," Dumbledore said casually.

Harry liked the confusion better, this was rather horrifying. Merlin's beard, did the teachers talk about these things? How did McGonagall even _know?_

He wasn't sure how to answer either, but Dumbledore's calm demeanor and small smile made it quite clear that this was a conversation that would have to take place before they talked about the Horcruxes.

"I suppose so, sir," Harry said.

"Very nice," Dumbledore said. "Have you fancied her long?"

Harry ran his hand against his cheek. "Umm… Yes, professor."

"Young love," Dumbledore said nostalgically. "I do hope you're well aware of the implications of a relationship, Harry."

"Sir?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore arched an eyebrow behind his half-moon glasses, and it was suddenly clear to Harry that he should have pretended that Sirius had gone over this with him.

"Have a jelly slug, Harry," Dumbledore said, flicking his wand to send the candy dish Harry's way. Harry figured he'd need it.

* * *

"Harry!"

Harry turned around and saw Hagrid, looking absolutely delighted. He hugged Harry with such enthusiasm that Harry was swept off his feet for a second.

"Hagrid," Harry said. "Hagrid, I'm so happy you're okay… They didn't hurt you in the Forest, did they?"

"No, no, no," Hagrid said dismissively—though he did have a rather ugly cut on his cheek, and somewhat of a limp. "I just got so scared for ya, Harry… Watched you die with my own eyes, didn't I?"

"I'm so sorry. But I'm okay," Harry promised. He'd repeated the words again and again, to everyone who had come to see him, but they felt empty. "How's Grawp?"

"Happy as a clam," Hagrid said. "I think he's with Charlie Weasley right now, they're having a chat. Actually, if you have a minute, I need to see you… over there."

Harry didn't actually have a minute –there was so much to do, so much to see. Death Eaters who had vanished and who needed to be identified so that Kingsley and the Aurors could start placing warrants, people who needed hand-holding and talking-to, maybe Madam Pomfrey was still needing help ferrying her healing potions from the infirmary to the Great Hall, McGonagall and the other professors would soon start surveying the damage done to the castle…

"Of course, Hagrid," Harry said.

Hagrid led him down the little snaking path that led back to his hut. It obviously hadn't been opened since he'd been on the run. But Hagrid simply dusted off the candle, used his umbrella to start a fire to boil the kettle, and told Harry to sit down. It felt a tad surreal to be sitting on his usual chair, while Hagrid rummaged around the kitchen and eventually produced a package of biscuits and a jar of jam to pluck in front of Harry.

"Hagrid, you alright?"

"I'm fine, I am," Hagrid said. "But you looked pekish. Thought you might need a break from—well, from everything up there. Tea makes everything better, you know. You looked like you might need a cup."

He placed a cup in front of Harry. Harry wasn't sure what to reply to that. He needed the damage of the Battle undone, he needed the Castle repaired, he needed twelve months of sleep, he needed the sunken feeling in his stomach to leave…

"Here," Hagrid said. "Drink up."

When Harry's hands wrapped around the warm mug, a profound sense of thankfulness washed over him. He looked up to thank Hagrid, who simply shook his head and passed Harry the biscuits.

* * *

Harry heard the laughter as soon as he pushed the door of Sirius' room. He smiled to himself and followed the sound to the balcony, where Sirius and Remus were sitting on the floor with a case of honeybeer between them, a blanket thrown over Remus' shoulders since the full moon had just been yesterday.

Remus saw him first and smiled. "Hello Harry."

Sirius turned around and grinned too.

"Come," he said. "Join us."

Harry sat between them and Sirius handed him a beer.

"Sirius," Remus chided.

"Oh, how old were you when you started drinking?" Sirius said. "Need I remind you of what transpired at Maureen McKinnon's 1965 Summer Solstice party?"

"If you open the can of worms that is Maureen McKinnon, I do believe _I'm_ the one who has the most stories to tell Harry about a certain someone's history," Remus said pointedly.

Harry grinned. Sirius rolled his eyes, and Remus tapped his wand to the cap to open it.

"I'm not going to be showing you that spell again, so I hope you remembered it," Remus said.

"Thanks," Harry grinned. He took a sip and looked out to their shared view. It felt completely unbelievable that downtown London could even exist outside of Grimmauld Place, let alone that the house could be nestled in it like a Russian doll.

"We were just talking about how tomorrow would be your parents' anniversary," Sirius said.

"August 27?" Harry asked. It felt like something that he should have known

"August 27," Sirius nodded. "They got engaged during our last year at Hogwarts."

"The pieces fell together really quickly," Remus said.

"After graduation? Oh yeah. They weren't interested in waiting," Sirius said. "But it was fairly common, when Voldemort came to power the first time, to get married fast. I think Lily and James knew they were going to get married one day anyways, it was sensible to just go ahead and do it. God, that was a good day."

"They had a small ceremony," Remus told Harry. "Mostly family, some friends. We were in the middle of nowhere, in this sunflower field your mother had found and fell in love with. She was absolutely beautiful, she'd charmed the flowers on her own veil. Your father combed his hair."

Harry smiled.

"There was one hell of a party after," Sirius said. "They had it at the Three Broomsticks. Your parents didn't let go of each other that whole night. The music didn't stop from the moment that the toasts were wrapped up. The place was packed, the floor was shaking… Hundreds of people must have turned up, with or without invitations. I wouldn't be surprised if Madam Rosmerta stopped booking weddings after that, we might have scarred her."

"We must have gone until sunrise," Remus said.

"Then we had to clean up," Sirius said.

"Excuse me? You were barely helpful," Remus scoffed. "If anything, I distinctly remember cleaning _you_ up being a three-man job—and one of those people was Lily, who shouldn't have had to do anything on her wedding day, need I remind you."

Sirius redirected their attentions from this particular piece of information. "Your parents spent that entire day beaming. The only time I ever saw them any happier was your birthday."

Remus nodded.

"James was ecstatic the day you were born. And Lily—it was like someone had breathed a new life into her. We didn't think she could be any gentler or kinder than she already was, but we were desperately wrong," Remus said. "When we went to visit at St-Mungo's, the three of us… we all agreed that you'd had the impact of an asteroid after only being alive for a few hours."

"They loved you so much," Sirius said plainly.

Harry nodded. "Do you think that they'd have had other kids?"

"Oh, definitely."

"Absolutely," Remus said. "And I would have been godfather next."

Sirius burst out laughing.

"They'd have wanted to give you brothers and sisters," Sirius said. "And they would have gone to every single one of your quidditch games and hounded you about your grades."

"I don't always miss them," Harry said, "which I know sounds terrible-"

"No," Remus said. "It would be exhausting."

"I suppose," Harry said. "But I wish I'd have met them. I don't hear a lot about them unless you two are around, which is nice."

"We've got nothing but stories," Sirius said. "You can ask us anything. That would be true had they lived as well, by the way."

Harry grinned.

* * *

One of Harry's favourite pictures in the album Hagrid had made was of his dad, hanging laundry outside. In it, James paused his work and turned around to look at the camera, and maybe Mum was taking the picture because he stuck his tongue out and smiled before going back to the laundry. It was like a loop: his father was endlessly hanging laundry, wearing a well-loved sweater, his wand tucked in the belt hoop of his jeans. It was the kind of thing that Harry thought he might have seen if he'd grown up in the little Godric's Hollow cottage and had peeked out of the window. It was casual and natural and relaxed, and this little domestic moment seemed to fit James Potter like a glove. It was counterintuitive to most of what Harry had heard about his father, but the picture _was_ tucked into the album, so he knew it was real. Something somewhere had changed, just like that.

* * *

That was the picture he'd been looking at when he'd worked up the courage to ask Mrs. Weasley for her help.

Right there and then, in the dead of night, Mrs. Weasley had helped Harry write the letter. She made a fuss about how she couldn't believe nobody had thought to introduce them and how of course Harry had to meet Teddy—he was an absolutely beautiful baby, happy and chatty and delightful. When Percy came down to the kitchen for his first cup of coffee, Harry asked to borrow his owl—this would be the first letter he'd sent with an owl other than Hedwig. He barely ate or slept until Mrs. Tonks sent word back—would Sunday for tea do?

"For Merlin's sake," Ron said when he caught Harry looking at himself in the mirror again. "You've met Mrs. Tonks before, she's lovely and she likes you. That won't have changed. Stop fretting."

"I'm nervous," Harry said straightening out his shirt. He'd borrowed it from Bill, but he wasn't quite tall enough to fill it in properly—he should have found time to get himself a nicer shirt. "I want to make a good impression."

"I think you look handsome," Ginny said, wrapping her arms around his waist and slipping her thumb in the belt loop of his jeans. Again, why didn't he own nicer pants?

"I think that's all I want to hear about this train of thought," Ron said.

Mr. Weasley reminded him how to get to Tonks House, and suddenly he'd apparated on Andromeda Tonks' front lawn. It occurred to Harry that this was one of the first times he'd been alone since the Battle of Hogwarts.

He rang the doorbell, and suddenly wondered if he should have knocked- weren't you supposed to knock when there was a baby in the house? Before he could figure out the answer, Mrs. Tonks opened the door. She was wearing black robes Harry had come to recognize as mourning robes, and her hair was pulled back in a silver-streaked braid.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello," she answered.

That was all Harry had prepared, really.

 _No,_ part of his brain chimed. _The flowers, give her the flowers._

"These are for you," Harry said handing her the bouquet.

"Thank you," Mrs. Tonks said taking them. "I love peonies, Molly must have helped you pick. Please, come in. Keep your shoes."

Harry remembered the house vaguely from last summer, but it definitely looked less… lived in. There were fewer shoes by the door, fewer coats hung in the hall, only one set of keys hanging from the hook by the door.

"I'm sorry for your losses," Harry said finally.

Mrs. Tonks looked up to him, with a pinched smile. She patted his shoulder. "Yes, well… They were yours too."

Harry's stomach twisted and turned into itself.

"I hear you're the one who inherited Grimmauld Place after all," Mrs. Tonks said. "I was wondering what had happened to it."

"I— yeah," Harry said. "I did."

"I never liked that house," Mrs. Tonks said. "Though I suppose it couldn't have gotten worst—especially not if Sirius had gotten his hands on it. Are you living there?"

"No," Harry said. "But maybe, once the minister's cleared it. I'm at the Burrow right now."

She nodded and looked around, as if they weren't standing in her own home. She held her own elbows, uncomfortably.

"Teddy's sleeping," Mrs. Tonks said. "But he should be up soon."

"Okay," Harry said. "Great."

Andromeda looked more uncomfortable.

"If you are going to bring him to Grimmauld Place, please have a second set of aurors check the house," Andromeda said. "Someone Dora trusted- like Kingsley…"

"Oh, Mrs. Tonks, I'm not… I'm not going to bring Teddy anywhere you don't want me to," he said. It broke his heart a bit that despite everything going on, Mrs. Tonks had had to worry about a damned house. "I understand that you're taking care of him, I… I just wanted to meet him. And then I want to help, when you want me to."

Andromeda took a deep breath, but her shoulders seemed to loosen.

"Okay," she said. And right on cue, Teddy started to cry from what Harry assumed was the living room. Harry followed Mrs. Tonks through the house.

Teddy was sleeping in a crib like any other, although a set of four stuffed hippogriffs fluttered above it, where a muggle mobile might have been. Mrs. Tonks reached down to scoop him up, and the first glimpse Harry had of Teddy was a flash of bubblegum pink hair whose colour flickered like a traffic light. His stomach twisted, as Mrs. Tonks bounced and soothed the baby down. She turned around and Harry got a better look at Teddy's button nose, his small little fingers, his big blue eyes, his ears that seemed way too big… His onesie was powder blue and sported a Bizarre Sisters logo, which made Harry smile a bit.

"Here he is," Andromeda said. As she made her way over to Harry, she talked to Teddy in a soft voice. "Who's that Teddy? Who's that? Do you get to meet someone new today, Mr Lupin? That's right you do, this is Harry. Say hello to Harry, Teddy…"

"Hi," Harry said. It felt silly to introduce himself to a baby, but not doing it would have felt just as awkward.

"Here, have a seat," Andromeda said. "You can hold him."

And so Harry did and the baby was deposited in his arms. Teddy looked up at Harry curiously. Harry himself hadn't expected babies to be so warm, so compact, and so squiggly.

"He's adorable," Harry said. "Remus was right."

"Hmm," Andromeda said. She smiled down at Teddy. "For a man who didn't think he wanted children… well, let us simply say he was wrong."

"He would have been a great dad," Harry said. "And Tonks must have been so good too… She picked out this outfit for him, didn't she?"

Andromeda nodded and then she closed her eyes. "That thing he does with his hair– where he makes it pink… That's what he used to do when he wanted her. It made us laugh, but he does it all the time now, even if she's not…"

"He stopped," Harry told her, as if that would help.

"He must like you," Andromeda said, looking at Teddy. "Trust me, he isn't one of those babies that simply likes everyone. He's quite social, but he has clear preferences."

"I'm honoured," Harry said. With one of his fingers, he traced the shape of Teddy's hand. "I didn't even have to bribe you with a present yet. Umm, _accio gift."_

The present he'd wrapped and unwrapped and rewrapped about five times that morning burst out of Harry's bag and landed gently on Andromeda's lap. She unwrapped the baby blanket, with stripes in grey and white and two types of pink, including bubblegum. Harry had found it while wandering in the village with Ginny about a week ago. There was also a stuffed animal series—a dog, a deer, and a wolf. Harry wasn't sure how much Mrs. Tonks knew about the marauders and if she understood the meaning of what would otherwise be a very strange set, but one day Teddy would know. He'd know everything Harry did. Which was just about everything anybody knew, now.

"He'll love this," Andromeda said. "Thank you."

"Hermione, my friend, told me to bring baby clothes because it would be more useful, but I didn't know how big he was," Harry said. Teddy's fingers closed around his fingertip. "But if you need anything for him, anything at all, just ask… I can help, I want to. It's my job to help."

"Babies are a lot of work," Andromeda said. "I love him so much, but…"

"I can watch him," Harry volunteered. "I can come here, or I can bring him to the Burrow to give you the house to yourself– not Grimmauld Place though, not until Kingsley's had a look, but we can… whatever you need, Mrs. Tonks. He's my godson. I want to do everything for him."

Mrs. Tonks nodded, and the phone rang. Harry wasn't used to wizarding houses with phones, but Mr Tonks had been muggleborn, after all. When Mrs. Tonks left to take the call, she left Harry and Teddy alone. He summoned the stuffed dog and held it in front of Teddy, who stretched out his little arms to grab it.

"Hey," Harry said just as Teddy stuffed the toy in his mouth. He grinned. "You _are_ cute, aren't you? You probably know it too. I'm sorry you're in this mess. Without your parents, and all. Ron, Hermione, everyone really keeps insisting that it's not my fault, but it'll take me a while to believe that. Especially because I know what you're going to go through about this whole thing. But I'm in your corner, and I'll work really hard to make sure that works in your favour."

Teddy looked up at Harry, going on with his very busy schedule of cooing and squiggling.

"It's okay," Harry said. "We'll keep you happy until you're old enough to get it. I'm not sure how to do it, but I've got a few ideas."

He looked up at the fireplace mantle, which was lined with pictures. Most of the picture frames were empty, Ginny had told Harry that when people died, they were usually absent from their pictures for a while—maybe because of some magical caveat in the enchantments, maybe out of politeness for the living and their grief. But one of the frames was occupied, and Harry realized that it must be a picture of Tonks and Remus on their wedding day. She held up their wedding license, he kissed the top of her head, and spun her around as if they were dancing. Pictures may not be as lively as portraits, but Harry swore that when made eye contact with Remus, he winked.

* * *

They took the Tube to Diagon Alley. Teddy had wanted to apparate, but Harry was firm that he should have some reminder of the Muggle world and how it worked and how important it was before he sped off to Hogwarts. _The Tube is fun,_ he had tried to convince Teddy. At least his godson had humoured him.

Andromeda had told Harry that she could take care of school shopping, but her hip had been bothering her and he's urged her to stay home and rest. She had replied that he shouldn't leave Ginny alone with a six-year-old, a four-year-old, and a two-year-old all at once. Harry replied that he actually shouldn't be leaving the six, four, and two-year olds alone with their mother since they had no chance of mischief under her watch. Andromeda had eventually agreed.

They spent the morning of rummaging through the aisles of the bookstore, stopping by the apothecary where Teddy curiously read all the labels of the strange ingredients (his favourite being "puffed pigmy puff pancreas"), and then robe fittings. There were a few first-year-sized kids drowning in oversized robes, standing in line and waiting for either Madam Malkin or her swarm of assistants to plop them on a stool and pin and shorten their clothes. It was slightly comedic, actually.

Harry left Teddy to pay and heard him introduce himself to another boy and strike up a conversation.

"Hi, my name's Teddy Lupin, pleased to meet you."

He thought he'd be okay, but Harry heard the other boy scream and saw him fall from the corner of his eye. He spun around and Teddy's hair had turned a painfully bright and angry red.

"Don't call me a cub," Teddy said. " _I'm_ _not a cub!"_

Harry rushed over and pulled Teddy away.

"Sorry, Madam Malkin," Harry said. He helped the other little boy, who looked shocked, back to his feet. "Are you okay?"

"Harry," Teddy said, looking frightened now. "He called me-"

"I heard," Harry said. "Come on, take the robes off. We'll come back and get them later, okay?"

"Did your kid just push my kid?" Someone said. Harry spun around and recognized Marcus Flint. It took all his patience not to openly groan.

"I don't know," Harry said. "Did your kid just insult my kid's father? Teach him better, Flint, then we'll talk."

Flint's eyes narrowed, but Harry simply hauled Teddy outside. They stopped a few shops over, and Harry knelt in front of Teddy who was shaking like a leaf.

"You alright?" Harry said. His hand in raising four children had solidified Harry's patience, but now he was looking for the right words to say. Something helpful and fair and direct.

"I'm sorry I pushed him," Teddy said sheepishly, looking at his shoes.

"I'm sorry he said that to you," Harry said. "But for what it's worth, I know his father. He's a deeply unpleasant mess of a wizard. Yours has an Order of Merlin, First Class. Yeah?"

Teddy nodded and smiled a bit before looking up from his shoes and smiling at Harry.

"Next time someone says something like that to you, that's how you reply," Harry said. "Or you tell them that if they knew how to read, they'd know that lycanthropy wasn't genetic. Or even better, you tell them there's nothing shameful about it. It might happen again, okay? And you can't push, next time."

"Okay," Teddy said. "I promise I will."

"There," Harry said ruffling Teddy's hair. "That's better."

They stopped by Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes to decompress and say hello to George, though the shop was absolutely _swamped_. If Professor McGonagall had been there, watching all of her incoming students purchasing any number of sticky, slippery, loud, enchanted objects, she would probably retire.

They stopped by the new Honeyduke's location that had just opened, and Harry let Teddy pick out candy to bring on the Hogwart's Express.

"That's how you make friends on the train," Harry told him. He added chocolate to Teddy's selection and informed him that "chocolate cures everything."

After stopping at Filip Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour to have ice cream for lunch (which Teddy was strictly forbidden from telling his grandmother about), they went back to pick up Teddy's robes. Teddy apologized to Madam Malkin, and she called him a very sweet boy.

They stopped by Ollivander's. There was quite a bit of blowing up and unhappy gusts of wind until Teddy matched with a wand.

"10 ¼ inches, Unicorn hair, dynamic," Ollivander said as he wrapped up the wand in tissue paper and a long, slim box. "Not to mention Rowan. Just like your mother, young man- 11 inches, Rowan, Unicorn hair, quite a fierce wand, actually... Your father had Cypress, but a Unicorn hair core as well."

Teddy looked at Harry and smiled, his hair turning from blue to lime green in excitement. Harry smiled back.

"I like my wand," Teddy said as they walked out of the shop, clutching the box against his chest protectively.

"I'm glad you do," Harry said. "You know, the Ministry used to favour Aurors with rowan wands because they were supposed to be so good for defensive spells. Your parents were both really good at defensive magic."

"Mum was an Auror," Teddy recalled.

"A really good one—trust me, I've read her file. And your father actually taught Defense Against the Dark Arts for a bit."

"Really?" Teddy asked.

"He did. Best teacher I ever had," Harry promised.

"Why didn't I know that before?" Teddy said.

"We made sure to save some stories for you," Harry said. "Now: look at your list. Have we got everything?"

"I think so," Teddy said.

"I think we're missing something," Harry said as they slowed down in front of Eeylops Owl Emporium. He stopped near the front door until Teddy realized what he meant and broke out into a grin. Around two years ago at Christmas, he'd taken a rather hard fall, while playing with Victoire and a few of the other cousins who'd gotten into the Burrow's broom shed. His tooth had been crooked since, but Teddy usually metamorphosed it back into place out of self-consciousness. When he was really happy and carefree, the metamorphosis dropped. Harry aimed for smiles so big he could see the tooth.

"Really?"

"Of course," Harry said. "How else are you going to send us mail? Think of it as a late birthday present."

Teddy smiled. "Grandma said it was okay?"

Harry paused. "I'm sure it'll be fine. Let's go."

Predictably, when Eeylops declared that one owl who had opened its own cage to get to the owl nuts for the third time that day was hopeless, Teddy picked it out.

"He just wants a friend," Teddy rationalized to Harry. "I can do that."

The brown owl had big white patches around its eyes like glasses and its feathers were flecked with white and black. It was quite handsome, and Teddy declared that he would name it Cypress. Eeylops said he approved and commented on how some children picked foolish names for such proud creatures.

They went for dinner at the Leaky Cauldron, where Harry waved to Neville who was helping Hannah behind the bar, doing dishes.

Teddy was pleased that he was allowed a butterbeer, and dug into his supper voraciously, slipping pieces of his chicken to Cypress.

"Are you excited to go to Hogwarts?" Harry asked him.

Teddy nodded but went back to his food without giving Harry an extensive and delighted spiel—which was how Harry knew something was wrong.

"Are you worried about anything?" Harry asked.

"That boy at Madam Malkins," Teddy said. "He knew who I was right away, because of my name. Will it be like that for everyone?"

"I don't think so," Harry said. "But for some people, yes. A lot of the professors at Hogwarts taught your mum and dad—maybe even worked with him or been his student."

"What if I'm not good at Defense Against the Dark Arts like them?" Teddy asked.

"I don't think anybody will mind," Harry said. "You'll be good at something else."

Teddy nodded.

"Teddy," Harry said putting down his knife and fork. "I know it's not easy."

"Sometimes I don't want to talk about it," Teddy said. "I don't want to talk about Mum and Dad and how they're dead, but people just say things as if I want to. Is that bad?"

"No," Harry promised. "It's not. It would be exhausting, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah," Teddy said. "And sometimes I'm having a good day and I don't… I don't want to be sad about it."

"Right," Harry said.

"And people are stupid," Teddy said. "I know that's very rude and not very Hufflepuff of me to say, but Hufflepuffs don't lie, either, so I don't know what to say, here."

Harry burst out laughing. "They certainly are, Teddy. But you know what?"

"What?" Teddy asked.

"I know the feeling," Harry said. "And I know it must be different for you, but I'll listen if you want to tell me."

"And now we have Cypress so we can talk," Teddy said.

"We have Cypress," Harry nodded. He reached out to offer the owl a piece of chicken, but the owl bit him. Teddy laughed, crooked tooth showing.


End file.
